Fleeting Embers

A prize-winning pentastich - refrain from 2021

The memories are warm in the eye of the storm
I remember the days long ago.
And the raindrops fall wet as the tears of regret
Dance through the air to and fro...
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

The colours and shades of the penny arcades
Flash through my mind on a whim.
And the mantra lives on, though the music is gone,
For the furore of then tends to dim.
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

Was I ever so young when my springtime had sprung?
Was I ever so short in the tooth?
Was I ever so tall ~ or really quite small
In the turbulent days of my youth?
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

Words fall on deaf ears as the sun disappears
And the twilight now smothers the bright
Do the things that I say become withered away
In the fading and ebb of the light?
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

So, I lie in my bed with these thoughts in my head
And anamnesis visits my dreams.
I forget how it was long ago then because
Forever they're gone ~ so it seems.
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Agree with Cherrie. An excellent piece of writing. Nothing here not to enjoy. I liked the rhyme scheme and the internal rhyme in particular. You convey emotions of aging well here Alan.

Chris

[Alan S Jeeves]

Ah Chris I'm an expert at growing old, I do it frequently. I enjoy internal rhyming and hope that people enjoy reading it (not necessarily mine). I have written in most forms over the years although I still favour rhyming best of all I think.
Kind regards, Alan

[Cherrie Palmer]

Well I can see why it won an award.

[Alan S Jeeves]

Good to hear from you Cherrie. Originally composed as a 5 stanza quatrain, I added the refrained lines later (which wasn't really difficult). It was published in its present form. Kind regards, Alan